Cottage Cheese Fluff

Mother's Day Sunday. Ryan made me breakfast in bed, which involved scrambled eggs that were slightly overcooked and toast that was slightly underdone and a coffee that was perfect, which is the only thing he is precise about. The twins climbed into bed with me and presented me with handprint cards from daycare — Owen's in red paint, Nora's in purple, both of them messy and crooked and the most valuable objects in my house. I will keep them forever. I will lose them in three moves and find them in a box twenty years from now and cry.

I called Mom at noon. She and Dad and Wally were having their own Mother's Day, just the three of them, with a roast in the oven that Mom had put in at one. She said Wally had eaten a soft-boiled egg for breakfast. She said this like it was a national holiday. We talked for half an hour. She asked about my master's reading. I told her about a chapter on transition planning that had made me angry. She listened. She always listens, even when she has no idea what I'm talking about, because that's what mothers do.

Stephanie and her four twins came to a park with us in the afternoon while Ryan slept off a long shift. The kids ran. We talked. She told me her mother had died last year and that Mother's Day was complicated for her now. I told her about Babcia Rose, who was almost like my mother, and about Wally, who was almost like my father in a different way than my father was, and about how my actual mother was the most steadfast person on earth and I didn't know how to deserve her. Stephanie nodded. She said "you don't deserve mothers, you just have them, and then you don't have them, and then you become one." That sentence has been in my head all week.

For dinner I made the breakfast for dinner Ryan usually makes, because we had eggs and bacon to use up. The twins were thrilled. Pancakes count as a Mother's Day dinner. Pancakes count as everything.

After the pancakes were gone and the twins were sticky-faced and winding down, I wanted something sweet that required almost nothing from me — because I had already given the day everything I had, in the best possible way. Stephanie’s words were still sitting with me, and Ryan was back on his feet refilling juice cups, and the kitchen felt soft and full in the way it only does on days that actually meant something. This Cottage Cheese Fluff has been in my back pocket for exactly those evenings: cool, creamy, and assembled in the time it takes Owen to negotiate one more pancake he definitely doesn’t need.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes + 1 hour chilling | Servings: 8

Ingredients

2 cups small curd cottage cheese
1 (3.4 oz) package instant vanilla pudding mix, dry (do not prepare)
1 (8 oz) container frozen whipped topping, thawed
1 (15 oz) can crushed pineapple, well drained
1 (11 oz) can mandarin orange segments, drained
1 cup mini marshmallows
1/2 cup maraschino cherries, halved (optional, for color)

Instructions

Combine base. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the cottage cheese and dry instant vanilla pudding mix until fully combined and slightly thickened, about 1 minute.
Fold in whipped topping. Gently fold the thawed whipped topping into the cottage cheese mixture using a rubber spatula, keeping it light and airy. Do not overmix.
Add fruit and marshmallows. Fold in the drained crushed pineapple, mandarin oranges, mini marshmallows, and maraschino cherries if using. Stir gently until evenly distributed.
Chill. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to allow the flavors to meld and the texture to firm up slightly.
Serve. Spoon into individual bowls or a serving dish. Garnish with extra cherries or a dusting of graham cracker crumbs if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cottage Cheese Fluff — The Sweet, Simple Finish to a Breakfast-for-Dinner Mother’s Day